


legally

by oh_la_fraise



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23540464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_la_fraise/pseuds/oh_la_fraise
Summary: Stavros had that constipated look on his face that he got when he was either mad or horny.  Alexis cheered in her head.  “You got into NYU Law?”She blinked.  “What, like it’s hard?”
Relationships: Alexis Rose & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Comments: 19
Kudos: 129
Collections: AU Ted/Alexis stories





	legally

**Author's Note:**

> ugh you guys. i had so many big plans for this, and i was so gungho because legally blonde is like my favorite movie of all time, but then real life kicked me in the teeth and alexis and ted broke up, and i lost my mojo. i was so invested in alexis and ted, pretty much as i am david and patrick, so i told myself i had to finish this before i could watch the finale. so i’m off to do that now. i may come back to this in the future and do some polishing, as this is a pretty early draft, but for now this is what i’ve got. 
> 
> also: i had originally planned for stevie to have a bigger part but time got in the way. if you've never seen legally blonde 1) what are you doing with your life 2) please trust as you're reading the early parts that i love stevie and she's my girl. 
> 
> i know very little about law or celebrities’/fashion designer’s inner lives, so go easy on me. i went with nyu rather than havard, even though harvard is so central to the plot in the movie, because it made a lot easier to weave david into the story and im really familiar with the nyu campus lmao. i tried to lift as little dialogue as possible from the movie, but “what if you’re trying to be somebody you are?” is one of the most romantic lines in cinema and i will fight about it.
> 
> note that there are some body image/food and sexual misconduct mentions in this; nothing graphic, and nothing that hasn’t been in the show or the movie, but i wanted to flag it.
> 
> also, pls don’t leave spoilers in the comments for a bit! it’s gonna be a hot minute before i get to watch the finale.

Tonight was the night. 

Stavros’ Yaya was in town, and everyone knew she had the family's heirloom diamond. And the family lasagna recipe, which apparently was worth more in certain circles. But anyway, Yaya Lena was in town, and she’d met Alexis, and she’d said _you’re quite a young woman_ , which Alexis was sure was the old lady version of a compliment.

After tonight, Alexis was going to be the future Mrs. Stavros Karras.

She’d eschewed her usual devotees and brought Mutt along to help her pick a new dress, with David providing very specific instructions over Facetime. The Schitts were new money—newer than the Roses, anyway—but somehow, without anyone being entirely sure how, they’d embedded themselves with the Rose family. Jocelyn and Mom were in a choral group together; Dad and Roland played poker; and she and Mutt had engaged in a whirlwind romance before realizing very, _very_ quickly they were better as friends with benefits than anything romantic. The benefits part had been dropped shortly thereafter, when Stavros swept Alexis off her feet and Mutt fucked his way alphabetically through girls named after cities in the contiguous US. His current flame was Topeka, which was fitting because she was about as square as Kansas.

The saleswoman was simpering at her, trying to get Alexis to buy a _hideously_ ugly number while Mutt, whose helpful knowledge of fashion began and ended with how hard various dresses were to take off of someone while drunk, kept saying things like _it’s definitely orange_ and _buttons are tricky._

“JLaw wore it in a recent Instagram last week,” the saleslady said. “You’d be first to buy it from us.”

“Okay, first of all, JLaw isn’t even _on_ Instagram,” Alexis said. “And second, it’s been in this store so long it _literally_ has dust on it.”

The saleswoman sputtered, and Mutt snorted. “Also? No one had ever gotten laid wearing a dress with snap fasteners.” 

~

Later that night, after an emergency Skype consult from David that resulted in a very glittery, very _short_ gold number, Alexis walked out Stavros’s car, envisioning the evening in her head. Stavros had made them reservations at Vittorio’s, which was, like, so romantic. They’d finish eating dinner, and then he’d propose, she’d cry an appropriate amount that wouldn’t ruin her mascara, and then they’d share an order of tiramisu. Alexis could see her future all clearly laid out in her mind’s eye, down to what centerpieces they would have at the reception.

Once she finished her strawberry salad (it was crucial she pick the perfect engagement meal. Vittorio’s shrimp scampi was to die for, but kissing as fiancés with butter and garlic _and_ seafood? Ew.), Stavros looked up at her, eyes shining, and Alexis took a deep breath. “Lele,” he started, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us and my future.” Alexis nodded reassuringly. “Now that I’m heading to NYU law, I’m starting the next phase of my life, and it’s important that I be with someone who reflects the business and legal powerhouse that I’m going to become.”

“Definitely,” Alexis said, winking. She was so glad Stavros understood the powerful boss bitch she was; he’d obviously paid attention to that semester she’d spent running Rose Inc’s social media.

“I’m so glad you understand,” Stavros said, exhaling.

“Yes, and I can’t wait to—” Alexis started.

“Because honestly I was afraid that you’d cause a scene when I broke up with you.”

Alexis stopped. Repeated what Stavros had said in her head. Repeated it once more. Nope, still didn’t make sense.

“Wait, what?” she said.

“Well, you know,” Stavros said, oblivious. “You can be dramatic at the best of times.”

And, oh. That certainly didn’t fit into her version of a garden wedding.

~

Alexis wouldn’t call the next few days of her life a funk, exactly, but it wasn’t _not_ a funk. There was a lot of ice cream, and very little make up, and a pair of David’s sweatpants she would never admit she’d stolen. Mutt and Jocelyn came by occasionally to check on her and try to drag her out of the house, but anywhere they could possibly take her would remind her of Stavros. Ironically, the most comforting person in her life right was her Mom, because Mom had little clue that Alexis was even dating Stavros, little less that they’d broken up. Moira just wanted to talk through Sunrise Bay trivia from the box set Alexis was watching, and it was refreshing to talk about _literally_ anything besides how she’d been dumped in the most humiliating fashion.

David had texted several times, but she hadn’t bothered to respond besides the initial _it’s over text._ So she wasn’t totally surprised to wake up on day three of this horrible new reality to find David leaning over her. “C’mon,” he said, “we’re having a spa day.”

He drove her to the nice spa that had the _good_ mints in the lobby, and promptly shoved three in his mouth as he checked them in. As they settled in to wait, Alexis listened half-heartedly as the news played in the background. She was probably going to cancel her trip to Russia anyway, as grief stricken as she was, but it was still good for her to know the status of the latest sanctions. A retrospective was playing about the Obamas, and Alexis watched it, sentimental; maybe one day she could have been the Michelle to Stavros’s Barack—

The Obamas had met at a law firm; Alexis knew that from the time she’d dated David Axelrod’s mustache artist. She slapped David on the arm. “David! Stavros wants a Michelle!”

“Yeah, everybody does; get in line,” David muttered, staring into his magazine.

“But what if I was Michelle Obama?” Alexis said.

“But you’re not,” David said. Ugh. Dick.

“But I could be. If I went to law school.”

For the first time since Stavros had broken up with her, Alexis felt the fog lifting. If she was going to pull this off, she needed to get to work immediately.

. . .Well, right after she got her nails done. Her cuticles were _rough._

~

“You’ll need at least a 174 on the LSATs,” the serious, unfun looking counselor said. “Even then, that might not be enough. What are your backups?” 

Alexis thought about it. “Well, Columbia, I guess. That’s pretty close. After that, Yale and Harvard, maybe? Those are close enough to New York that I could make it work.”

The counselor sighed. “Right, okay. Well good luck with that.”

~

When she explains her plan to her parents, her Dad just stared at her. “Well, honey, your twenties are the best years of your life. It might not be worth wasting away on a degree you won’t use.”

“What your father was trying to say,” Mom cuts in, “is that you shouldn’t waste the picturesque years of your youth on some fleeting folly.”

“It’s not a fleeting folly,” she said, desperate to make them understand. “He’s the love of my life.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Dad said, “I can make a call. My old business manager was a professor; he could probably get you in.”

“I appreciate that Dad, but no. If I’m going to do this, I have to prove to Stavros that I can do it on my own.”

Mom nodded. “Well, I suppose if you are fixated on this endeavor, I have no choice but to direct your admissions overture.”

~

Studying for the LSATs was like, an exercise in torture. And Alexis would know, although doing the jetliner in that Scottish prison had been really good for her glutes. 

Mutt frowned at her as he finishes the practice test. “156.”

She took a deep breath. She once listened to Elisabeth Moss talk about scientology for four hours; this was nothing.

~

Alexis really didn’t think that filming her cautioning a “client” that they were buying a cape of chicken feathers rather than genuine mink was necessary, Victoria Blake’s stint as an undercover poultry agent or not, but at least she got a chance to say caveat emptor.

~

Jocelyn handed her the envelope when it arrive, bouncing, Mutt nodding like a bobblehead behind her. Alexis took a deep breath. Even if it was bad, she would find another way to go to NYU and get Stavros back. If she could blackmail Hilary Duff into a Lizzie McGuire reboot, getting into a top-notch law school with a subpar LSAT was nothing.

She slides open the envelope, scanning through the text until something that resembles a score caught her eye. But that couldn’t be right, because a perfect score was 180.

“—Well?” Jocelyn asked excitedly.

“179,” she said, quietly. She felt like there were bubbles in her stomach; that had just been orange juice she drank this morning, hadn’t it?

“—Holy shit,” Mutt said finally, and then Alexis was being swarmed into a hug.

~

The good thing about Stavros going to NYU and not somewhere boring like Boston or DC was that, besides lower Manhattan having a decent social scene, she could crash in David’s solarium until she was back with Stavros and they moved in together. Despite his general gross _David-ness,_ he did know how to outfit a space for maximum luxury, and she could steal his skincare until her North Korean contact got out of prison. David, unlike everyone else in her life, hadn’t actually criticized her plan, which was like, an unparalleled level of support from him, given the last time she’d asked for his help with that teensy tiny mishap in Dubai, he’d bitched about his stress zit for a week. 

Before she knew it, it was time for her first day of classes. She donned the plaid miniskirt she’d picked out—a perfect blend of Velma Dinkley and Paris Hilton—and headed to her first class.

An idiot Alexis was not; she had prepared this plan carefully. But when she walked past Stavros, she stared straight ahead as if she had a million other things on her mind.

“Alexis?” he said, and she stopped and turned, pretending to look surprised to see him. He looked good; the same old Stavros, handsome and charming. “What—what are you doing here? Are you here to visit me?”

She blinked, doing her best to make her eyes wide and innocent. “No, of course not! I’m here for school.” 

“School,” Stavros repeated, and then looked around. “For. . .communications? Did you not graduate from UCLA?”

Which, okay, that stung a little. She graduated with a 3.827, little less graduating at all. But that was why she was here, to prove to Stavros how smart she really was. “No, I’m here for law school, duh.”

Stavros had that constipated look on his face that he got when he was either mad or horny. Alexis cheered in her head. “You got into NYU Law?”

She blinked. “What, like it’s hard?”

Stavros’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, and Alexis decided to leave him wanting more. “I have to get to class, but maybe we can meet across the street in the park in an hour and a half?” 

She didn’t look back to see if he agreed. She already knew he had.

~

When she walked into the classroom, it was smaller than she expected, with a close view to the professor from every seat. Alexis picked a spot towards the middle and pulled out her phone, ready to take notes. She’d thought about a laptop, but a bag big enough for a laptop was _not_ sexy, and besides, she once texted an SOS message to David with her toes, so she was pretty confident in her texting abilities. The Professor walked in, barely giving them a second a glance. She was middle aged; handsome in a way that also looked like she could kick some serious ass if needed. It was a look Alexis had always admired, even if she couldn’t pull it off herself.

It isn’t until the Professor was grilling Alexis on the reading they supposedly had that Alexis began to change her opinion of the professor. Everyone around her was snickering, and Alexis was honestly confused as to what to do, because one thing Alexis Rose had never been was the butt of anyone’s joke.

“Ms. Budd,” the Professor said, gesturing to another girl across the way. She was pale, with dark hair; her shirt was _way_ too baggy and her hair could use some layers, but she was really pretty in a Victorian murder mystery novel way. “Do you think it’s appropriate Ms. Rose was not prepared for class?”

“I don’t,” the girl said, not even trying to hide her glee at Alexis’s misfortune. 

Professor Lee looked back at Alexis and narrows her eyes. “Until you can tell your head from your ass, get out of my class.” The horrible witch snorted, which made it even worse.

She stormed out of the building and across the street into Washington Square Park. It was busy with people enjoying one of the first real days of fall, but she quickly found a bench and sunk down onto it, making a sound that her mother would call a _delicate expression of unpleasantness_ and that David would call a grunt.

“Everything okay?” the guy she belatedly realized was sitting on the other side of the bench asked. Alexis took a peek. He was cute, in a wholesome, boy-next-door way that she would eat for breakfast if she wasn’t busy trying to win the love of her life back.

She waved her arm, trying to encompass the sheer stupidity of the past hour. “Do all the professors just humiliate you in front of the entire class if you don’t know the answer?”

“L1?” he asked, grinning, even though for all this guy knew, she could be from any other school. It made her feel a little naked, that first Professor Lee and now this rando had seen through her so quickly, and, like, not in a hot way. She nodded, feeling more defeated than she had the time she’d been locked in that underground bunker in Louisiana. The guy’s smile softens into something more gentle. “Let me guess—Lee?” She nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. I once seriously considered quitting school and moving to Alaska to raise sledding dogs because of her. Who else do you have?”

“Um—Schwartz, Curry, and Donahue.”

He nodded. “Schwartz likes people who speak up and are confident. Donahue talks _super_ quietly, so make sure to grab a seat in the front if you actually want to be able to hear anything. And whatever you do, do not, I repeat— _do not_ Google Professor Curry.”

“Racist?” Alexis asked, wrinkling her nose. Even in New York, she wouldn’t be surprised.

The guy shook his head. “No. Ah. she was a professional dominatrix on the side? And there, are. A lot of pictures.”

“Good for her,” Alexis said, completely serious. “Thanks, though,” she said. She felt somewhat at ease for the first time since she got here. “I’m Alexis.”

“Ted,” he said, holding out a hand. But Alexis forgot all about him as Stavros walked towards her. She jumped up and ran toward him. 

“Alexis,” Stavros started. He stopped, and then tried again. “You’re . . . in law school?”

“Uh, _yeah,”_ Alexis said, flipping her hair, because really. “Oh, Stavros, we’re going to have so much fun! There are _so_ many fun things we can do in New York.” She was about to bop him on the nose when the horrible witch from before came up, draping an arm _way_ too comfortably over Stavros’ shoulder. “Made a new friend, huh?” she asked.

“Veve,” he said, leaning into her. “This was Alexis. We were friends in LA.”

“Oh, one of your _flings,_ ” she said contemptuously. “How cute. We’ve talked about you a lot in our circle. I’m Stevie.”

“How do you two know each other?” Alexis asked faintly, trying to come up with a Sunrise Bay-worthy plot twist instead of the answer that was obviously in front of her.

“She was my Yaya’s assistant growing up,” Stavros said as Stevie smirks. “We reconnected over the summer. My Yaya always said she showed great potential.”

It was then that Stevie draped her arm a little more forward, and Alexis pressed into her Isabel Marant heels for all she was worth. On Stevie’s rough, raggedy-nailed finger, was Yaya’s diamond.

~

David stared at her as she burst into the studio. He was standing over a group of photos, waving furiously to his assistant. “Alexis, not now—”

“David,” she said, determined not to cry, and he finally looked up. “Emma, let’s table this for another day.” 

Emma headed out, managing to give Alexis a disdainful look even as she hastily scribbled down whatever David had told her. “What—what happened?” David said, shifting from foot to foot.

“Stavros is _engaged,”_ she wailed, and David blinked. “He proposed to you?” At Alexis’s disbelieving stare, he shook his head. “No, that’s obvious.” He walked around the table and held out a hand. For a second, Alexis thought he wanted her to shake it, but then he slowly and carefully settled it on her shoulder. “C’mon, sit down.”

“It’s his Yaya’s old employee. They reconnected over the summer, apparently.”

“Well, surely she was not as pretty as you,” David offered. 

Alexis shook her head. “She needs a major wardrobe do-over, and, like, half a compact’s worth of bronzer, but she was pretty. But she was _so_ mean to me, David.”

David bithis lip. The last time she’d seen that look on his face, David had been about to ask her if she knew _anything_ about Prince Harry’s prized poodle that had gone missing. “Alexis, I know I’m not a great authority on romance, but—maybe this was a sign you should let Stavros go?” 

She shook her head. “No, I just have to try harder. Why are you so busy anyway?” she asked, desperate to change the subject. There was an air of frantic energy in the Gallery that didn’t feel quite right; David, for all his drama, usually had things under control; his go to move to manage his anxiety was to be overprepared and control every small detail. 

“Last minute show,” David said, looking away.

“Shia LaBeouf was doing another performance piece, isn’t he?” 

~

Law school continued to be a mix of mind numbingly dull and completely miserable. She missed sunny, humid-less California, and Mutt, and Jocelyn, and basically people who were somewhat friendly to her that weren’t David. She’d tried and failed to join Stavros’s study group, and Stevie kept sniping at her in class. She’d thought about ditching class altogether, but that wouldn’t give her much time around Stavros. Besides, the thought of all the smug assholes in class deciding she couldn’t hack it burned under skin.

The one small bright spot was that Ted guy; it turned out he _worked_ for Professor Schwartz, so he was around pretty often. The few times they’d talked had led Alexis to realize he was a huge nerd, and not in the way most people at law school were. He had a serious thing for animal taxonomy and was weirdly into snails.

. . .But he also didn’t treat Alexis like she was stupid, or somehow less than, even after she’d explained, in broad strokes, about her relationship with Stavros. “Turns out there’s more to want in somebody you’re dating than looks,” she explained, feeling unusually bitter. 

“Well, yeah,” Ted shrugged. “But I’ve known you for like two weeks, and I can already tell how passionate you are. And I mean, you got into NYU Law, so you must be pretty smart.”

 _I got almost a perfect score on my LSAT,_ she wanted to say. It was a weird feeling. She was used to bragging, but never about something as mundane as a test score. 

She didn’t hate it.

~

The only other person she could somewhat stand at law school was Professor Schwartz. It turned out he was the old buddy her Dad had mentioned, and while she was sure that played a role in how he treats her, Alexis also thought he just genuinely liked her. _He likes people who speak up,_ Ted had said, and that was one thing Alexis had never had a problem with. He said something about first year internships one day, and the cutthroats in class were clearly gunning for one of the spots. Alexis figures she could throw her hat in the ring as well; competition was why she was here, after all. 

~

David was saying something about the healing energy of his upcoming exhibit when a guy in a cute lil’ delivery man uniform walked in. Actually, cute and lil’ described the guy pretty much completely; he was short but thick, and those horrible brown cargo shorts were, like, actually working for his thighs. Alexis tossed her hair, because even if she was now a Serious Law Student in the process of winning back her one true love, there was no harm in flirting. Only cute lil’ delivery guy ignored her completely, handing a clipboard to David. “Got a big load for ya today, David.” 

David, the constipated blobfish that he was, murmured something incomprehensible and stared at the proffered tablet like he had no idea how to write. He was, now that Alexis thought about it, a suspiciously early adopter of talk to text.

Alexis sighed and took the clipboard, smiling as she signed it and handed it back to the guy. He looked at her briefly before his eyes went back to David. “See ya tomorrow, David,” he said and headed to the door, David watching his ass the entire time.

“What was _that_ about,” she asked, full of sibling glee at David’s awkwardness.

“It’s nothing,” David said in that annoyed way that clearly meant it was very much something.

“Tell that to the tongue hanging out of your mouth.”

David rolled his eyes. “I’m not looking to date right now. Besides, I’m still. . .involved with Sebastien.” He said the second part so quietly Alexis could barely hear him. 

“Wait, what?” Alexis asked, sharp. Her mission in life was to tease David as much as possible, but. Sebastien had been terrible for David in a way that wasn’t funny. He was manipulative and slimy, and David always seemed. . .small, when he was with Sebastien.

David looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Wait,” Alexis said, something falling into place. “The last minute exhibit you mentioned—was that for Sebastien?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” David repeated.

“Why are you even letting Sebastien show at all?” Alexis asked. It was meant to be a rhetorical question—she knew the answer was David’s spine of jello when it came to standing up to anyone who wasn’t her and most days not even Alexis—but he flinched, slightly, before locking it down in an emotional shift worthy of Mom herself.

“. . .David?” she said, unsure. She wasn’t usually on this side of the equation; usually the only help David needed from her was sourcing illegal eye cream.

He didn’t meet her eyes. “He may have some, um, personal photos of me.”

“What, like you wearing those awful footie pajamas you claim not to own?” He stared at her, wearing his boorish _how are we related_ face, a moment before it clicked. “Oh my god, Sebastien was blackmailing you for nudes?” David shrugged.

“But, like, why haven’t you stolen them or something?” David let people walk all over him, sure, but he was also pretty seedy when he needed to be. He’d extorted, like, a lot of mob bosses to get Alexis free from hostage situations, and bribed countless bureaucrats and transportation people to get her expedited flights and documents. He’d even snuck into that Dutch palace that one time and knocked out a guard with a pair of wooden clogs when she’d gotten caught smuggling rare tulip seeds.

He shrugged again, looking uncomfortable. “What connections Sebastien lacks in the art world, his family more than made up for in the business community. He’s ruthless.” David paused. “And his Dad was, um, a pretty big NYU donor.”

It slowly clicked into place, like fastening the last button on her denim Isabel Marant Etoile dress: all those crazy things David had done, it’d never been to get things David needed. It was always for Alexis.

“But that’s illegal,” she said. She was pretty sure it was, anyway.

“If you say so; you’re the lawyer,” David said, and went back to adjusting the photograph's center.

~

David’s funk lasted the next two days, leaving Alexis in a bit of a huff, because as gross as David was, he was her only real social contact right now. So when she overheard someone mentioning a party in the library, she was already rounding the corner in excitement before she realized it was _Stevie_ inviting people.

She blinked, trying to figure out how to disentangle herself from this situation without Stevie’s glare melting her where she stood, when Stevie shrugged. “Well, it’s a costume party, so you probably wouldn’t be interested.”

Alexis perked up a little. Maybe Stevie was starting to like her, and that filled Alexis with a burst of pride, even if befriending Stevie probably isn’t the best strategy to win Stavros back. “Oh, I love costume parties!”

“Oh, well,” Stevie said, looking a little friendlier. “The theme is high school slumber party. We’re all wearing our pajamas.”

She pulled out all the stops for the party, knowing she would see Stavros there. There were some _very_ fond memories attached to the tiny pink silk nightie she puts on, and the fluffy heels gave her an extra boost of confidence. She looked good, she felt good, and she was potentially making some new friends; for the first time since she came to New York, Alexis was feeling a little positive.

The feeling quickly evaporated, however, when she walked through the apartment only to realize she had been set up. Everyone, wearing their plain, everyday clothes, was either snickering or checking her out or both. She was Moira Roses’s daughter, though; Alexis lifted her head and strode forward as if she didn’t have a care in the world until she found Stevie.

Stevie, who immediately did a spit take of the wine she was drinking when she saw Alexis. “Wow,” Stevie said, mouth curling into a sardonic grin. “You really dressed up, huh?”

Stevie was wearing her usual flannel and jeans, but she had put her hair in a ponytail, which Alexis supposed counted as dressing up for her. Alexis was about to make a devastating comeback about her wearing the latest Walmart sleep collection, but when she went to speak, “what is your problem with me?” came out instead.

Stevie laughed. “Um, besides you stalking my fiancé across the country?”

Alexis shrugged, because well, _yeah_ , but Stevie hated her before she knew about Stavros.

“Fine, you wanna know?” Stevie asked, looking like she was bored with the whole thing. She had poise; Alexis would give her that. “I didn’t buy my way in. My family barely had two cents to rub together. I worked my _ass_ off to earn my way here instead of being some vapid blonde bimbo who used Daddy’s money because I woke up one day and decided to go to law school.”

“I got in like everyone else,” Alexis said, more meekly than she’d like, before walking away, head spinning. She’d made sure her parents hadn’t interfered like they did with David’s gallery. She’d earned her spot here. Right? Even if she was just using the spot until she won Stavros back.

Speaking of, Stavros was standing in front of her, blatantly checking her out despite the fact that Stevie was in the next room. “Wow, aren’t you just asking for trouble. What’s with the outfit?”

“Oh, you know,” she said, attempting to preen. It was hard, though; she was still shaken up from her conversation with Stevie. “Thought I’d dress up a little.”

Stavros hummed, and she continued, “I miss you. We never get to see each other anymore.”

“I miss you too. You know, just everything was so busy right now.”

“Ugh, I know,” she commiserated, glad they were back on the same page. “Can you imagine how crazy it’s going to be once Professor Schwartz’s internship gets added in?”

Stavros looked at her like—like she was a little child, almost. Like she had said something so insane and naive he couldn’t help but be amused. “Lele,” Stavros said, stepping forward and stroking her hair. “You need to be realistic. You’ll never be able to qualify for one of those internships.”

“. . . Why not?” she asked, already knowing what he was going to say.

“You’re just not smart enough,” he said, shrugging as if it was a foregone conclusion.

As if it was a foregone conclusion, despite the fact that she earned her spot just like he and Stevie did. It wasn’t her parent’s money; it was her busting her ass and blowing off Chris Hemsworth’s bordello party to study for the LSATs at two in the morning. She felt like such an idiot, standing here in her Playboy Bunny nightie, trying so hard to prove to Stavros that she was worth his time. 

Stavros had always made her feel stupid, she realized slowly.

“I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” she asked, more to herself than to him. She graduated college, she got into law school, she once negotiated a treaty meeting between Taylor and Kanye. She never doubted herself and her abilities. . .except for when she was with Stavros. Because he didn’t care about what Alexis could accomplish or what she was capable of; he just saw her as a piece of ass to while away the time until he could settle down with his picture perfect wife.

She stormed out. She had work to do.

~

The good thing was, the bookstore was open ridiculously late. The bad thing was, Ted was also there, arms laden with a book titled _A Thousand and One Puppy Pictures_. He raised an eyebrow at her, and Jesus, why were any of them here when they could be shopping online? “No questions,” she snapped, clutching the laptop box.

“Noted,” he said, voice full of amusement. 

~

It turned out, hauling books around was _really_ good for her biceps, and the new center of gravity only caused her to lose her balance and trip in her heels once, so overall it was a win for her fitness.

Plus, when Professor Lee looked at her with the slightest bit of admiration when she not only answers a question right but then _elaborated,_ that was. Well. She felt happier than any drug had ever made her.

~

Sebastien was very sexy, in a Johnny Depp filming Pirates of the Caribbean way; Alexis could understand why David fell for him. But literally the _first_ thing he said after she walked into his apartment was “Hmm, Alexis Rose. Would you allow me to photograph you bare? I’d love to have a matching set,” and then all Alexis could think about was how her skin was crawling. 

Maybe, between Stavros and Sebastien, the universe was trying to tell the Rose children to join the church and pledge their celibacy to god.

She got straight to point. “You’re going to tell David he can keep the profits of the show he’s pulled together for you, and then you’re going to leave him _the fuck alone.”_

Sebastien raised an eyebrow. “Aw, yes, the young legal scholar. I suppose David told you about the leverage I hold over the Rose family?”

She stomped her foot. No _wonder_ David had gotten a stress pimple, if the Dubai incident had been anywhere as frustrating as this. “He did, and it doesn’t matter. Did you know that you’re in violation of US Code Title 18, Section 873?”

For the first time, Sebastien looked less than sure of himself. “What are you trying to say?” 

She stared at him. “Get rid of the pictures and leave David alone, or I’ll lead a lawsuit against you that will last so long you’ll need diapers by the time it’s over.” 

She didn’t look over her shoulder to see if his jaw was hanging as she strode away, but. It was tempting.

~

She still broke in and made sure there were no traces left of David’s pictures, though. The law was good and all, but Sebastien was a rat, and she hadn’t spent that week learning how to hack a computer from Julian Assange for nothing. 

~

There was a buzz in the hallway; students were heading in one direction looking hopeful, and heading in the other direction looking crushed. “What’s going on?” Alexis asked Gary, the weird guy always offering his demo tape to people after class.

“Professor Schwartz was taking on first year students for the Sands case. It’s a huge deal.”

She pushed through the buzzing crowd, trying to get up to the paper that listed the victors. Stavros, no surprise. Stevie, too. The Elon Tesla wannabe, Alexis Rose, and that girl who always smelled vaguely like mothballs.

Wait.

Alexis’s eyes scanned back up the page. There, plain as day: _Alexis Rose._

She took a few steps back, trying and failing not to smile. Stevie and Stavros were celebrating, practically dry humping in the hallway. “Hey Stavros,” Alexis called, clearing her throat. “Remember that cold night we spent glamping but couldn’t find any extra blankets?”

Stavros smiled briefly before Stevie whacks him in the chest. “Um, no?”

“Well,” Alexis said, beaming. “This knocks that out of the fucking park.”

~

Twyla tapped her fingers together. “I don’t think I killed him? I mean, I did once astrally project my ex-boyfriend into stubbing his toe, so I could have. But I don’t remember doing it while conscious.”

Twyla Sands was someone whom Alexis’s mother would describe as _unembellished._ Her brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and even though she was currently in an orange jumpsuit, Alexis couldn’t imagine her regular wardrobe being any more exciting. But she was sweet, telling Stevie she liked the tie Stevie was wearing, and her big doe eyes hardly look like they’d be able to watch someone die brutally in front of them.

Big eyes or not, the case didn’t look good for her. Her recently discovered, _very rich_ birth father was found dead with Twyla standing over him, covered in blood. Twyla’s half-sister Klair had found them, which Twyla’s legal team might have been able to cast doubt on, but Klair’s friend Albany had also been there at the time. There was motive, too: Twyla’s birth father had ignored her for her entire life, and Twyla’s upbringing had been less than ideal. Worse yet, Albany had testified she’d been drinking with Twyla, and Twyla had straight up admitted she was planning to kill her stepfather Ron. 

But still, Alexis had a gut feeling Twyla was innocent. And Stavros aside, Alexis’s gut had gotten her out of a lot of jams.

“Everyone else thinks she was guilty,” Alexis told David later. He had been looking at her out of the side of his eye ever since Sebastien crawled in and backed out of the showing. David hadn’t actually asked about Alexis’s involvement in it, but he did for once leave her fancy sparkling water instead of drinking it himself, so she figured that was his version of a thank you.

“She probably _was,”_ David said, stuffing an entire half of a sandwich in his mouth. “You can’t tell me that she wasn’t bitter—” he paused, jaw dropping so wide Alexis could see his half-chewed sandwich.

She turned to look, and, _oh,_ it was the cute lil’ UPS guy again. He sauntered toward David, smirking, and held out his clipboard. “There’s twelve bags of Cheetos in this delivery. Should I be worried?” 

David’s mouth stayed open, and then closed, while the UPS guy’s smile faded slightly. Alexis kicked David under the table, and David finally took the clipboard, looking something between angry and embarrassed. “It’s been a trying week,” David said. 

UPS guy nodded. “My go to is BBQ chips for that, myself.”

After he left, Alexis looked at David disbelievingly. “What the fuck was that?”

David throws up his hands. “I _just_ got out of a very toxic relationship! I don’t know how to flirt with someone that nice.”

“Um, talk to him?” Alexis suggested.

“Yes, because talking about the junk food and rom-com DVDs I order make _such_ good conversation.”

“Ugh, David, I’m a serious law student. I can’t be running your love life too.” David glared, and Alexis flipped her wrist. “You know, Mom was always talking about her finger down the back trick. Try that.”

~

Two days later, Professor Schwartz asked Ted to get a statement from Klair and Twyla’s stepmom. Ashley would have been a suspect—she was 30 years younger than Twyla’s father, and had recently been dumped—only she’d fled New York City weeks ago for a spa in the Hamptons, where she’d been since. Alexis, as the only team member who spoke both _spa_ and Hamptons fluently, was deputized to go with him.

The drive up was nice. Ted had a horrible penchant for puns, but Alexis, to her surprise, actually found most of them kind of funny. He was also unbearably sweet, talking about how happy he was about his Mom dating her Zumba instructor. The trip was mostly a bust—Ashley had about a million different witnesses to testify she’d been in the Hamptons during the murder, and she spent the entire time complaining about Twyla and Klair. On the way back, they stopped for dinner at a roadside stand; Alexis looked on wistfully as Ted chowed down on a delicious smelling shrimp po boy as she picked at her limp Cesar salad.

Ted looked up from where he was devouring his sandwich and paused. “Try some,” he said, holding it out to her. She reluctantly leaned forward and took a bite, and then she had to close her eyes, because God, it was good. Ted grinned openly at her and started cutting his sandwich. He dumped half on the plate in front of her. 

“No, Ted, I can’t—”

He waved his hand. “Please! I’ll have some of your salad; we can call it even.”

It was, Alexis realized, one of the best meals she’d ever eaten, and it wasn’t because of the sandwich.

~

That night, Stevie tapped on Alexis’s hotel room door. “Are you done with those dispositions?”

Alexis handed them over. “Please. If I stare at them any longer, I think I might go insane.”

“Thanks,” Stevie said, taking the files. “I have to look at them tonight, because I have to be up early to pick up Schwartz’s dry cleaning.” She rolled her eyes, and Alexis made a noise of sympathy.

“God forbid he ask Ted or Stavros. It’s always you or me. Or mothball girl.” It slipped out before she could stop herself, and Alexis clapped a hand to her mouth.

But Stevie just snorted. “She _does_ smell like mothballs, though. But yeah, it’s stupid as hell.” She turned to leave, but then she stopped and turned back around. “I. . . I’m sorry. You got on Schwartz’s team just like rest of us, and you’ve been working just as hard. I’ve guess I’ve just gotten so used to people being terrible I stopped thinking they could be genuine.”

Alexis isn’t quite sure what to say at such raw honesty, and Stevie seems to be even more uncomfortable with emotion, so Alexis just waved her hand. “It’s no problem. And I mean, you’re engaged to Stavros. So you’ve clearly got the hardest job of all.”

Stevie leaned in close as if imparting a secret. “Working for his grandmother? Way more stressful than law school. She was a total _nightmare_. She got him into NYU, I guess, though, so she was good for something.”

“What?”

Stevie looked a little delighted to be gossiping. “Yeah, he got _wait listed,_ ” she said like it was scandalous. Which, Alexis supposed, it was. Stavros had been talking about law school for as long as she’d known him. “She had to make a call; threaten to pull a donation.”

“Holy shit,” Alexis said. Take that, Stavros.

~

“I did Mom’s trick!” David was practically shrieking, his voice was so high. “I ran a finger down his back and he _jumped and wacked his head on the door._ We’re on the way to the hospital; he might _actually_ have a concussion.”

“Wait, you’re still with him? That’s good,” Alexis said absentmindedly as she waited for the water fountain. Albany’s cross examination was going to start any minute, and the last thing Alexis had time for was David’s histrionics. 

Before she could step up to the fountain, though, Albany herself swept in. She was vaguely familiar in a way that Alexis couldn’t quite place; both being from California money and around the same age, Alexis figured they’d probably crossed paths at some point.

She huffed in annoyance at Albany cutting in line, and Albany turned, giving her a withering glare. “Don’t even try, sugar pie.”

Alexis repeated the strange phrase over in her head, feeling like she’d just been struck by lightning.

She set a personal record for running in heels as she headed up to where Ted and Professor Schwartz were murmuring, low and concerned. “Albany’s lying!” she reported breathlessly. “My friend Mutt. . .um, _met_ , her at Coachella; I remember he told me about this weird thing she kept saying. She was on the other side of the country when Twyla supposedly said she was going to murder her.”

Professor Schwartz looked her up and down disdainfully, and Alexis’s gut sunk. “I’m sorry, Ms. Rose, but I’m not going to veer off course at the eleventh hour because some hobo friend of yours can’t keep his side pieces straight.” And then he walked off and began his cross examination. 

Ted blinked at her reassuringly, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll take care of it.” Professor Schwartz was wrapping up, but before Albany could be dismissed, Ted strode confidently to the podium. The awkward, nerdy Ted Alexis had come to know was nowhere to be seen; instead, he had been replaced by a swaggering, confident shark. “Ms. Allistair,” he said, looking her in the eye, can you tell me about your outing with Ms. Sands?”

“Well, it was mid-April, and we were drunk on the Highline.”

“And what were you drinking?”

“Boone’s farm.”

“And who was your favorite person you saw at Coachella?”

“Ariana Grande,” Albany said, and then blinked. “Wait, no—”

“So you weren’t at Coachella when Ms. Sands was in New York supposedly confessing murder to you?”

“I—”

“Guess someone should have _coached_ you better,” Ted said, suddenly back to the dork Alexis knew. The courtroom was murmuring, and the judge was calling for order, but all she could focus on was Ted smiling at her. They did this. Together.

~

That night, Stevie, staggering under a pile of briefs, caught Alexis on her way out. “Schwartz wants to see you,” she said. “Probably wants you to get dinner for him because he can’t figure out Grubhub.”

Alexis nodded, waving at her as she headed to Schwartz’s office. He smiled at her, gesturing her in, and she felt a little relieved. Even though she’d been right, she’d been afraid the stunt she and Ted had pulled today would get her fired. 

“You did well today,” Professor Schwartz started as she sat down, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her. “I should have listened to your instincts.”

“Thank you,” she said, preening.

“Now, I think it’s time we talk about your future,” he said cordially. He settled in the chair across from her. “You’re an ambitious woman, clearly.” 

She nodded, a trickle of unease swimming down her spine. The gut she had so much faith in was setting off alarm bells, but Professor Schwartz was one of the most respected lawyers in the country—

“You can call me Eli,” Professor Schwartz said. His hand slid up her thigh.

There was a small pause in which Alexis tried to process _what the fuck_ just happened, and then she was standing up so fast the chair toppled behind her.

“So everything you just said was because you’re ambitious about wanting to fuck me?” she asked disbelievingly.

He shrugged, not looking the least bit ashamed. “We have a lot in common.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Alexis said, trying to ignore the shake in her voice as she hurried out of the room.

She was already starting to lose it, but she told herself she just had to get to the elevator and then she could freak the fuck out in peace. She could feel the tears forming as the doors finally closed, but before they could shut completely, a hand slid in between the doors. Stevie stood stiffly, face dripping with disgust. “Man, I can’t believe I let myself buy your little act. Maybe if you fuck the jury too we’ll win the case.”

And the doors slid shut.

 _“I’ve been thinking a lot about us and my future.”_ Stavros had said. “ _Now, I think it’s time we talk about your future,”_ Schwartz had said. They’d both been very clear about the future that was in store for Alexis, and it was as a trophy wife sipping pina coladas by a pool. Not as a lawyer. She’d been an idiot to think there was any other possibility.

When she got out of the elevator, Ted was smiling broadly, walking towards her. “Hey!” he started, but before he could continue, Alexis tried to bolt past him. “I’m quitting.”

“Wait, what?” Ted said. He reached out, touching her arm gently, and she stopped and turned toward him. Even in her frazzled state, she realized she wanted to give him an explanation at least. “I’m leaving. I’m done. With all of it. Schwartz hit on me tonight; he made it clear that the only reason I got the job was so he could have some eye candy.”

“Wha—Okay, fuck him. But you _know_ you’re worth more than that. We destroyed Albany’s testimony totally because of you!”

“Yeah, because I knew my friend was a total himbo. Face it, Ted. I’m not meant for this!” Alexis was really starting to cry now, which added to how small and pathetic she felt. “I’m not a smart, cutthroat lawyer. I was kidding myself, and I’m done trying to be someone I couldn’t be.”

“What if you’re trying to be somebody you are?” Ted asked. He looked—he looked. . .sad, that she was leaving. She couldn’t help but feel fondness for him.

“You’ve been the one bright spot in all of this,” she said. “Look me up if you ever come to LA, okay?”

~

When she finally opened the door to David’s, her brother wasn’t the first person she saw. The UPS guy was laughing into a beer, eye a deep purple. But he was smiling goofily at David, who was gesturing wildly with a stupid grin on his face.

Great. Now David was going to fall in love with the delivery guy and no one would have time for Alexis anymore.

She let out an embarrassing hiccup at the thought, and David and UPS swiveled towards her. “Alexis?” David asked, and the smile was gone from his voice. Great, now she was ruining David’s life too.

“I just—I’ll go—”

“Hey, no,” David said, putting down his wine. “I’ll see you later?” he said hopefully at the UPS guy, and UPSG smiled and nodded, making a swift exit.

“What happened?” David asked. He had that frown again, the one he only got when he was having to bail her out of something. She never thought _law school_ would be a situation David would have to rescue her from. 

“Can I—will you hug me?” she asked instead.

David wrapped her in his arms, and she cried for everything she thought she was.

~

She didn’t totally remember falling asleep, but eventually she woke up, snug and tucked into her bed, something that David would never, _ever_ admit to doing. She threw on some clothes and trudged down to the gallery, grabbing a muffin for David along the way; her own way of saying thank you. The gallery was moderately busy, but David turned away from a customer when she entered. 

“You’re still leaving?” David asked.

“C’mon, David,” she said. “It didn’t matter what I did; I was never going to be a lawyer. Even Professor Schwartz just wanted to sleep with me.”

“I’m going to miss you,” David said quietly, pulling her into a hug again.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” a voice said from behind her. Alexis turned and—

“Professor Lee?” Alexis asked. “What are you doing here?”

Professor Lee shrugged. “What? I like art. And I like to make the delivery guy that’s always here squirm. He scratched my car with his little dolly one time.” She stepped closer. “Listen. You’re possibly my least favorite student I’ve ever had. I mean, you wore a sleeveless dress in the winter for fuck’s sake. When you started, I didn’t think you’d make it a week.”

“Um, was this supposed to be a pep talk?”

Professor Lee glowered, and Alexis shut up; that glare was just as terrifying outside of class. “But you proved me wrong. Look. I can’t say I get you, but you’re clearly smart and passionate. Don’t waste that for a jackass like Schwartz.” 

With that, she turned and left, leaving Alexis staring behind her.

“What the fuck,” David said under his breath.

~

The first thing on her list was to find Ted. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, because it was pretty out of the question she would go back to working for Professor Schwartz. Instead, when she was thinking it over as she got back to David’s apartment, Stevie was waiting outside, slumped against the door, knees pulled up to her chest.

“Stevie?” 

Stevie looked up, scuffing her beat up shoe against the carpet. “Ted told me that Schwartz hit on you; that you weren’t coming on to him.”

“Yeah,” Alexis said, because she was worn out, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it.

There was a beat, and then Stevie said: “Stavros is a dick too, isn’t he?” It wasn’t really a question, but Alexis nodded anyway. 

Stevie stood and held out her hand. “So you wanna go win a murder trial?”

~

Schwartz straight up _laughed_ when Twyla said _you’re fired,_ but his face quickly fell when she nodded, firm in her quiet Twyla way. “I mean it. Alexis is my lawyer now.”

“She’s a law _student,”_ Schwartz sputtered. “She can’t legally defend you.”

“She can if she has a licensed attorney to supervise,” Ted said, waving his hand. 

“She's already done more for my case than you did. And she actually believes I’m innocent,” Twyla said, looking at Alexis.

“Also she's not a sexual predator, so.” Stevie adds, shooing him along. 

“You won’t make it a week in prison,” Schwartz said as he packed up and took a seat in the gallery.

“It’s your witness,” the judge said, sounding vaguely amused at the drama unfolding in front of her.

Alexis took a deep breath and looked out to the audience. David had driven her here, but she was still surprised he stayed, a bruised Patrick ( _Patrick. UPS guy’s name was Patrick)_ sitting next to him. Even better, he had Mutt on his phone, watching by Facetime. Twyla was looking at her serenely from the front, and Stevie gave her a steely nod. 

And then there was Ted, smiling and looking so, _so_ confident in her, like there was no way she could fuck this up.

She swallowed and turned back to the witness stand.

Klair Marsden sat confidently at the witness stand as if it was a throne and she didn’t have a care in the world. _Let them eat cake,_ Alexis heard in her mind, even though Kristen told her Marie Antoinette never actually said that. “Ms. Marsden, can you tell me what you were doing the day your father died?”

Klair was twirling her hair, looking bored. “I was at my friend Hyacinth’s pool house for most of the day. Then I went home, and walked into the house and found Twyla over my dad’s body.”

“But your friend Hyacinth wasn’t home, so no one actually saw you there.”

Klair shrugged. “Her sauna is nicer than mine, so she gave me a key for when she wasn’t around. I actually took a picture while I was there,” she said. 

Alexis nodded, and Ted projected it onto the screen in the evidence box. It was Klair, tilting her head in a sexy selfie, wearing nothing but a string bikini and heels. Klair had turned the photo in early on during discovery, but the picture had taken on one of those instax polaroids, so there was no actual way to verify the date.

“Did you get a nice tan?” Alexis asked in a bid to buy herself time to think. The crowd tittered, but she ignored them. She was too busy looking at the picture. Alexis had seen it a thousand times over the past few weeks as she read up on the case, but it had always been in small, compressed paper copies. Now that it was on the big screen in full definition, Alexis could see details she hadn’t noticed before, like the smallest hint of red sole on Klair’s heels. 

“You’re into haute couture, huh, Klair?”

Klair rolled her eyes. “I guess.”

“Me too,” Alexis said, leaning close like she was imparting a secret. “You know, my Mom was a muse for Valentino when she was younger.” 

The judge blinked. “Ms. Rose, this was a courtroom, not your sorority house. Please refrain from gossip.”

“Oh, this isn’t gossip, your honor.” Alexis whirled back to Klair. “I like your heels. They’re part of Christian Louboutin’s new collection, yes?”

Klair sat up a little straighter. “Yeah. So?”

“You know, Louboutin is famously protective of his designs. He doesn’t give them to _anyone_ before their official release date. Not even Beyoncé. And if my memory serves correctly, the pair you’re wearing in that photo came out _after_ your father died.” 

Klair stiffened; there was a twitch in her eyes. “Ever since _she_ showed up, my dad had practically forgotten about me—”

“So it wouldn’t have actually been possible for you to be wearing them that day—”

“—I was his daughter first. And then some street urchin was just going to stride in and take my place—”

“—because you weren’t at Hyacinth’s pool that morning. You were at home, murdering your father.”

Klair stood, slamming her hands onto the edge of the witness stand. “I didn’t want to kill him! I just wanted to kill Twyla!”

She collapsed back into the chair. The courtroom, for a moment, was silent. 

And then at once, everyone started speaking until it rose to a dull roar, the sound deafening the judge’s banging gavel. 

But Alexis couldn’t hear any of it from the ringing in her ears.

She just won a major case. As a first year law student.

Holy shit.

~

When she finally managed to escape from the courtroom and the press hounding her, before she can get a moment to herself, there was a fierce tug on her arm. Stavros was grinning broadly, and it was the same look that had made her lose her mind over him so many times. “Alexis, I’m so proud of you,” he said. “Lele—I love you. I’m ready to start our future together.”

She smiled widely at him, leaning in. He leaned with her, closing his eyes, ready to kiss. When she was centimeters away from him, she booped his nose instead. “Fuck off into a hole, Stavros.”

~

Two years later, Alexis looked out into a crowd of mostly the same people as she delivered the speech she’d been nominated to give at graduation. David and Patrick, smiling, arms around each other. Mutt, in person this time, with his parents and new baby brother. _Her_ parents, who were beaming with pride.

Stevie, resplendent in her cap and gown, actually full on smiling. They’d become incredibly close, especially when Stevie had dumped Stavros like a hot potato, although introducing Stevie to David had been a major mistake. 

And then Ted, grinning with pride. After quitting Schwartz’s practice, Ted had struck out on his own. He’d been wildly successful, even if there wasn’t as much money in animal rights law as there had been in private defense. But that was okay, because once Alexis started her post-grad job at one of New York City’s top firms, she’d have more than enough money for the both of them.

She’d still borrowed a little from her parents, though, to buy the golden engagement band that was waiting for Ted in her purse.

She’d come so far, but there was one thing Alexis was still sure of: she wasn’t a law student. 

She was a _lawyer._


End file.
